


to wish under the stars

by greyskiesblack



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9790376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskiesblack/pseuds/greyskiesblack
Summary: Noctis takes Prompto out to see the stars, which is super sweet and great until an Iron Giant almost murders them.But hey, at least they get the tent to themselves afterwards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i was checking my WIP folder for something and opened this instead. apparently I wrote ~3,500 words of this a month ago and totally forgot, so i sat down to write "just a little more."  
> except the 'little more' turned into smut, because of course it did, oops. but at least I finished it. woohoo~!

“Come _on_ ,” Noctis urges as he tugs Prompto’s hand.

“Uh, are you _sure_ about this?” Prompto can’t stop looking around at how _dark_ everything is, how the trees loom and shift around them. It makes him stumble behind Noctis, who squeezes his hand harder.

“I told you already,” Noctis says, and Prompto can _hear_ him rolling his eyes, “we’ll be fine.”

“Maybe _you’ll_ be fine,” Prompto mutters under his breath, dodging a branch that before it smacks him in the face. He’s almost sure Noctis did it on purpose, the _jerk_.

“Come on, Prom,” Noctis says as he squeezes Prompto’s hand hard enough to _hurt_. “Nothing’s gonna happen while I’m here.”

“I’m pretty sure that is the opening to like, _every_ horror movie ever,” Prompto says as he follows behind. At least the path is opening up. A little. Maybe.

Noctis scoffs. “Like I’d let anything happen to you.”

Prompto scoffs back. “What, like I can’t take care of myself?”

Noctis slows, and Prompto almost slams into him. “You’re scared of the dark, Prom.” His voice is quiet, matter-of-fact.

Prompto’s face feels red. Like, _really_ red. He’s almost glad it’s dark. “W-What’s that got to do-”

“You can’t see the stars if you’ve got a torch on.” Noctis takes a step and yanks Prompto along with him.

“Oh no.” Prompto wants to dig in his heels, but then he’d lose his grip and Noctis might storm off and leave him alone. He’s got no choice but to follow along. “We can’t turn off the lights!”

“Prom.” Noctis says, and he is _definitely_ rolling his eyes. “I swear, I’ll gag you.”

Prompto falls quiet, and the trees thin out around them.

They walk for a couple more minutes until they reach a kind of clearing. Noctis turns back to Prompto and grins, and then he reaches over and switches off Prompto’s light.

“Noct-”

There’s a click, and then everything is dark. Prompto takes a step, bumps into Noctis’ shoulder.

“Don’t freak out. Just look up.” Noctis puts his other hand under Prompto’s chin and tilts it upwards.

For a moment, the sky is as black as the night around them. But then Prompto can _see_ it - the twinkling stars. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Like they’re standing on a beach looking down at grains of sand, except every grain is a star.

“Whoa,” he breathes, and Noctis drops his hand.

“I told you,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Prompto’s. “All that complaining-”

“What was that?” Prompto turns his head. There was a noise. _Definitely_ a noise.

“Probably an owl or something. Prom.” Prompto can feel him shrugging his shoulders. “I _told_ you-”

“Are you sure it was an owl? How do you _know_?” Prompto says, and his voice _might_ be a little squeaky.

“Prompto, shut up and look at the stars.” Noctis sighs.

“Sure. Okay.” Prompto takes a deep breath, looks up again. The stars are twinkling like glitter. His breath comes out slowly. It _really_ is beautiful. Except it makes his neck hurt. Like, a _lot_.

He slowly sits down, dragging Noctis with him by the hand. No way is he letting go when it’s so dark he can hardly even find Noctis’ face. All that black is _bad_ for midnight trips into the forest. He leans back on his hand, looking up. His neck still hurts. But who knows what kind of icky-gross-disgusting _bugs_ are crawling around in the dirt and-

“Here, Prom.” Noctis lets his hand go, and for a second Prompto’s fingers flail in the darkness. He can _hear_ him moving, shifting around. But he can’t see. Prompto squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his hands into fists. “Okay.” There’s hands on his shoulders, pulling him down towards the ground.

Against Noctis’ stomach. Prompto’s breath hitches. “Um?”

Noctis puts his hands over Prompto’s ears, then moves them away. “If it’s like this, you can’t hear, right? So you won’t be scared. And your neck won’t hurt.”

Prompto tilts his head until he can _just_ make out Noctis’ face. He can see his teeth flashing in the night. “Noct-”

“Shut up and look at the pretty stars, Prom.”

He’s not going to argue with a royal command. Prompto lowers his head and wriggles his arms until it would be comfortable if it wasn’t _awkward_.

Noctis puts his hands over Prompto’s ears, curls his fingertips in his hair. Prompto looks up at the stars. All the dark isn’t as scary when Noctis is right there. And the stars are _so bright_ , glittering in the sky. He wishes his camera was good enough to take photos of it. But he’s tried before, and all he gets is a fuzzy black picture.

“Oh!” Prompto leans up and points. “Noct, did you see it?” There was _definitely_ a shooting star.

“See what?” Noctis sounds sleepy.

“There was a shooting star! C’mon Noct, keep an eye out. You’ve gotta make a wish, right?” Prompto tries to swallow down his babbling. He already made his wish, the instant he saw it, and it burns in his mind. He feels like Noctis will be able to read his mind and figure it out. Or that Prompto will spill it out like an idiot.

“I’ll get the next one, Prom.” Noctis tugs Prompto’s head down again. “What’d you wish for, anyway?”

“I can’t _tell_ you,” Prompto squeaks. “It won’t come true.”

Noctis hums for a moment. “Really?”

Prompto wriggles around until he’s sitting up with a hand on Noctis’ knee so he can’t lose it in the dark. “ _Seriously_?”

He can make out the shadows moving, Noctis touching his hair. “What?”

“Don’t they teach you _anything_ in that palace of yours?” Prompto teases, and Noctis lifts his hands and shoves him.

Prompto _lets_ the shove roll him away, and he flops beside the prince in the grass. He’s laughing under his breath, afraid of making too much _noise_ but unable to stop.

Noctis huffs and resettles himself, using his arms as a pillow. Prompto mirrors his pose beside him, looking up at the stars.

“Do you even know the constellations?” he asks, lifting a lazy hand to point at one. He can cut it out with a finger.

“I know some of them,” Noctis mumbles. “That one is Leviathan, right?” He points, and Prompto leans over so he can follow the line of Noctis’ finger.

“Yeah.” Prompto nods, his chin bumping into Noctis’ arm. “Know any others?”

“Uh.” Noctis wriggles his fingers around. “Nope.”

Prompto lies back with a sigh. And a grin. “Hopeless.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one that likes stars. I’m just here to protect you.”

Prompto’s heart skitters into his throat, and he has to swallow it down before he can talk. “It’s meant to be the other way around, dummy.”

“Hey, don’t call _me_ dumb. I saw your graduation marks.” Noctis nudges his elbow against Prompto’s.

“H-Hey, that’s unfair!” Prompto protests. “That test was rigged, I’m telling you-”

“Shh.” Noctis puts his hand over Prompto’s mouth. “You’ll bring all the _monsters_ down on us.”

Prompto freezes and then shudders against Noctis’ hand. “Why-”

“Sorry.” Noctis pulls his hand away and puts it on Prompto’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it.”

“If you didn’t _mean_ it then you shouldn’t have _said_ it.” Prompto’s fingers are trembling, and if he squeezes his eyes shut it’s even _darker_.

The stars. He looks up at the stars.

“I’m _sorry_ , Prom.” Noctis’ voice is quiet. Something squeezes Prompto’s hand, and in that instant before he realises it’s Noctis’ fingers, he feels like his heart is going to explode and kill him.

“I’d feel much better if we could do this at a haven,” Prompto mumbles.

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be able to see anything with all that smoke.” Noctis’ fingers are twining through Prompto’s, and it takes him a second to remember what Noctis is talking about.

“R-Right.” He swallows, and it sounds especially loud.

Prompto tries to focus on the stars, except it’s really _hard_ when the only thing he can concentrate on is how Noctis’ fingers are brushing over his, gentle and trembling. His breath sounds so loud in his ears that he’s afraid Noctis can _hear_ it. Or hear how his heart is thumping louder than an Iron Giant’s footsteps.

“Oh!” Noctis exhales a sharp breath. “Did you see it, Prom?”

“S-See what?”

“The shooting star.” Noctis sounds like he’s rolling his eyes again. “ _Seriously_.”

“Oh. Did you remember to make a wish?” Prompto is on the edge of babbling, and he snaps his mouth shut before he can.

“Mmm.” Noctis’ fingers press against Prompto’s until their hands are laced together. And then he _squeezes_ and Prompto’s hands are sweaty and _gross_ and Noctis is going to _notice-_ “I don’t have to.”

It takes a moment for Prompto’s brain to catch up. “What?”

“Make a wish. I don’t have to.” Noctis clears his throat.

Prompto swallows. “Why not?”

“Mmm.” Noctis’ fingers are digging into the back of Prompto’s hand, and it _almost_ hurts. “I’m fine like this.”

Prompto feels his stomach drop through his body and into the ground. He swallows again. “Um.” He clears his throat, trying to dislodge his heart. “Like what?” he asks, and he feels like he’s standing on the edge of a _very_ tall cliff and he’s about to topple over. Or be shoved.

Noctis shifts and it makes their arms bump against each other. “Like _this_.” He’s not squeezing Prompto’s hand enough to hurt anymore.

There’s _no way_ Noctis can mean what Prompto wants him to mean. “L-Laying in the dirt and about to be eaten by bugs or a daemon?” His voice is squeaking again. “Or… a _daemon-bug_?”

“Yeah Prom, that’s exactly it.” Noctis mutters. “I wished to be eaten by a daemon-bug.”

“Seriously?” Prompto says before he can stop himself.

“No,” Noctis mutters. His nails are digging into Prompto’s hand. “With you, okay? I’m… I’m fine being _with you_.”

“With _me_? Wait, like, _with_ me?” Prompto’s heart is so loud in his ears that he’s afraid he won’t be able to hear Noctis talking, and he _needs_ to hear Noctis talking.

“I am _never_ listening to Ignis again. ‘Take him out to see the stars, it will be perfect.’” Noctis is muttering under his breath, but it’s loud enough that Prompto can hear him anyway. “‘Not even _you_ can screw it up, Prince,’ he said.”

Prompto waits until the silence stretches uncomfortably between them. Noctis’ hand feels frozen in his, except it’s sweaty and gross and he kind of wants to wriggle his hand away. Except he wants to keep it there even more. “Um, Noct?”

Noctis lets out an explosive sigh. “I _like_ you, Prom.” Noctis’ voice is muffled, and Prompto turns his head to see why. Noctis has his hand over his face, his skin a pale blur. “Gladio keeps telling me I should just climb into your sleeping bag and make it even _more_ obvious.”

Prompto’s brain feels like it’s short-circuited. “Um?” His voice is _definitely_ a squeak.

“If you say ‘um’ one more time, I swear-” Noctis groans. “It isn’t supposed to go like this.”

“How is it supposed to go?” Prompto feels like he’s clinging to the very edge of the cliff, his fingers twisted in bits of grass and dirt.

“I don’t _know_ , better?” Noctis’ voice sounds slightly strangled.

Oh. _Oh._ Prompto looks up at the stars again. One shoots across the sky and vanishes into the darkness. “But-”

“Oh for-” Noctis pulls his hand free, and a shadow looms over Prompto’s vision. If he strains his eyes he can _almost_ make out Noctis’ eyes. “Prom, I like you.” Noctis’ breath is warm against Prompto’s face.

“I-um-me too? I mean. I like you too?” Prompto _really_ wants to squirm away. He feels very squirmy, all over, and he’s pretty sure he’s making a mess out of _everything_.

Noctis blows out a sigh. “Really?”

“Um, yes? Definitely yes?” Prompto is nodding wildly in time to his pounding heart.

“So… I can… do this?” Noctis is quiet, and Prompto can hear his shaky breath as he lowers his head. Really slowly. Really, really slowly-

“Oh.” Prompto closes his eyes and tilts his chin. Noctis’ hair brushes against his face, and it’s the only warning he gets before the prince’s lips close over his, dry and chapped and gentle and _soft and perfect_.

Prompto’s heart is thudding in his ears, louder and _louder_ and-

“Noct!” Prompto hisses, shoving him off. For a second he feels bad about it, because even in the faint light his best friend looks betrayed. And then the thudding gets even louder. Prompto gets to his feet and _wobbles_.

“Is… that an…” Noctis is getting slowly to his feet and looking around. “Oh Gods, Prom, _run._ ” He holds out his hand and wriggles his fingers.

Prompto swallows hard and _leaps_ towards him. Their fingers entwine clumsily as they start running through the trees. He can feel the air _sizzling_ with daemonic magic and he’s pretty sure he’s going to trip over something and the daemon is going to _catch_ him and he’s going to get _eaten_ -

“Come on, Prom!” Noctis shouts, pulling them through the trees.

It would be so much _easier_ if it wasn’t for the branches and the roots and the _everything in the way_. He can outrun the prince on a track, on a straight road. But between the branches smacking him in the face and the way Noctis keeps _tugging_ at him, Prompto feels like he’s going to trip. And die. Horribly. And messily. But mostly horribly.

The haven feels impossibly far away. No matter how fast they make their way through the forest, Prompto can _hear_ the giant behind them, its lumbering footsteps, the cracking of the trees.

If he had the breath for it, he’d complain about his impending doom. But all he can do is pant and scramble along with the prince.

He can _see_ the blue smoke. Prompto could cry, maybe he _is_ crying. Not going to die. As long as he runs just a little faster, a little-

Something catches his legs, and he spins to the ground, dragging Noctis with him. He doesn’t even have a second to collect himself, to find his breath, because there’s a _roar_ behind them.

Prompto scrambles up and _reaches_ for his gun.

The shot he fires _cracks_ through the night, and Prompto is dimly aware of Noctis shouting something, but he can’t make out the words, can’t focus on anything except the giant turning its head towards _him_ and lifting that really, _really_ big sword-

He needs to move. He _needs_ to, but his legs aren’t working and everything is happening too slowly and too quickly all at once.

His vision goes white, and everything is suddenly cold. For a second Prompto thinks he’s dead, but then something _grabs_ him and hauls him away.

The giant - no. Gladiolus, who is not _quite_ a giant. He drags Prompto until Prompto remembers how his legs work. Which is exactly when the sound starts again.

“-idiots, can’t believe-”

“Gladio, save the yelling.”

“Lucky you’re both still alive so I can _kill you myself_ -”

“Prom, Prom are you okay?”

“Sure.” Prompto feels dazed. He glances behind him and sees the giant, frozen and encased in ice. It’s melting quicker than they’re running. “Gonna die, gonna die-”

“Shut up and _run_.” Gladiolus tells him.

Prompto does just that. Ignis is dragging Noctis beside him, and it’s easier to breathe once he can tell Noctis is safe.

The magic of the haven feels warm against his skin. Gladiolus shoves him towards the fire, and Prompto lets himself fall in front of it, shivering.

“The _hell_ were you thinking, letting yourself get caught-”

“Gladio,” Ignis interrupts. “Go get some blankets.”

Prompto can hear Gladiolus muttering, hear him stomping towards the tent.

“Hey.” Noctis’ voice is quiet. He sits beside Prompto, cross-legged.

Prompto raises his head and uses the closest knee as a pillow. “That was _definitely_ not a frog,” he mutters, rubbing at his eyes with cold, trembling fingers.

“Definitely not a frog,” Noctis echoes. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Are you?”

“Sure.”

“Here.” Ignis interrupts, dropping a blanket onto Prompto. “I’ll… go calm Gladio down.”

“Thanks, Specs.”

Prompto untangles the blanket and snuggles underneath it. He’s really _cold_.

“Prom?” Noctis puts a hand on his head.

“Noct?” Prompto turns slightly, looks up at him.

Noctis presses his palm against Prompto’s forehead. “Jeez, you’re freezing.”

Prompto wants to make a sly remark about Noctis warming him up, but his teeth are chattering and he just nods instead.

Noctis lifts Prompto’s head and shoves something under it. And then he’s gone, and Prompto’s fingers curl against the blanket.

“Here, Prom.” Something warm is pressing against him from behind. Snuggling under his blanket. Oh. _Oh_.

Prompto wriggles and turns around. He’s just so _cold_ , even though being sandwiched between the fire and Noctis is taking care of that faster than he’d admit. He buries his face in Noctis’ shoulder, and Noctis slides his arms around Prompto’s shoulders.

“Better?”

“Better,” Prompto mumbles. “Tell Ignis to work on his aim.”

Prompto can feel Noctis’ chuckle before he hears it. “Sure thing, Prom.”

Prompto smiles, but the warmer he gets the more _aware_ he gets of every single rock that’s poking into him. The ground is even less comfortable outside of the tent. Except he has Noctis here, and that’s _almost_ worth it. Kind of. Not really. A little?

“Noct?”

“Mmm?”

“Think we can go to the tent?”

“What’s wrong with this?”

“The… seven different rocks stabbing me?”

“Oh. Mmm. Okay.”

Noctis squeezes Prompto tighter before he lets go and sits upright. “Are you sure, though?” he says, glancing over his shoulder.

“About the rocks?” Prompto tilts his head slightly.

“Well…” Noctis looks away and coughs. His cheeks are pink in the firelight. “I mean, it’s more private out here.”

Prompto swallows. Twice. “P-Private?”

“W-Well, I mean… that… that giant interrupted us.” Noctis fiddles with his hair, pushing it back and then tugging it forwards again.

“O-Oh.” Prompto feels his heart slam into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How the _hell_ had he almost forgotten?

“Un...unless you don’t want to.” Noctis adds, turning away and hugging his knees.

Prompto sits up and wraps his arms around Noctis’ waist. “Want to,” he mumbles against Noctis’ shoulder. His face feels way too hot, and it’s _way_ better to hide his face against Noctis’ neck.

“Really?” Noctis’ voice is a little squeaky.

Prompto nods against Noctis’ neck. He’s _pretty_ sure his face is bright red.

Noctis squirms and puts his arms around Prompto, _squeezing_ him closer. All Prompto has to do is lift his head and they’ll be kissing again, but his fingers are trembling against Noctis’ back, twisting in his shirt.

“Prom?” Noctis’ breath tickles past Prompto’s ear.

He _wants_ to say something clever, or at least a little funny, but what comes out instead is “But I’m a commoner.”

Noctis tenses under Prompto’s hands. “When have you ever cared about that?”

“Um. Sometimes? Mostly now? Right now?” Prompto feels cold again.

“It… it doesn’t matter, Prom,” Noctis relaxes and presses his hands against Prompto’s back. Their legs are in the way, he can’t get _closer_ , but he wishes he could.

“Are you sure?” Prompto lifts his head, just a fraction.

“I’m sure.”

He blows out a breath against Noctis’ neck. “Okay.”

Noctis’ eyes look red with the reflected firelight. Prompto wonders what _his_ eyes look like, if Noctis is as afraid of falling into them as he is of Noctis’. Prompto has to swallow hard and look away for a second before he can meet Noctis’ gaze again.

Noctis licks his lips, and Prompto leans forward, because _he_ wants to trace over Noctis’ lips with his tongue. Noctis moves his head, just slightly, and then they’re kissing again, all mushed lips and teeth and sticky tongues that taste a little like the fish Ignis made for dinner.

Prompto slides his hands under Noctis’ shirt, pressing his fingers into his hot skin. Noctis does the same to him, and Prompto shivers under his touch. They’re _touching_ but it doesn’t feel like it’s close enough, like there are too many layers and too _much_ in the way.

He has to pull away to catch his breath, but he doesn’t want to lose the way Noctis’ tongue is rubbing against his, the way _he_ can kiss Noctis however he likes and even if he’s not _entirely_ sure what he’s doing, Noctis just pants and gasps and presses _closer_. And who needs to breathe, right? It’s _totally_ overrated when he could be kissing Noctis instead.

Noctis pulls away and presses his forehead against Prompto’s. His hair brushes against Prompto’s eyes, his cheeks. “Gods, Prom.” His voice is ragged, his eyes half-closed.

“W-What?” Prompto squeaks. Clears his throat. Excuses bubble up in his throat, how he’s never kissed anyone before and he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s sorry if it’s terrible - oh gods what if it’s _terrible_ -

“I…” Noctis trails off and kisses him again, moving his hands to Prompto’s hair and curling his fingers in it. “Maybe we _should_ have taken the tent.”

“Less rocks,” Prompto points out helpfully. He feels a little dazed, like he hit his head on something, but he can’t have because Ignis would have noticed and done something about it.

“What’s the point in being the prince if I don’t get to abuse my power now and then?” Noctis grins and gets to his feet, offering Prompto a hand up.

Prompto gets to his feet a little awkwardly, dragging the blanket with him. It was Noctis’ jacket under his head, and he grabs that on his way upright.

“Hey Specs, Gladio!” Noctis calls out. “Prom needs to go to bed early.”

“Hey!” Prompto protests, shoving Noctis with a shoulder.

Ignis steps out of the tent and adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. “I suppose Gladio and I can keep watch a little longer.”

“Why do we _both_ have to keep watch,” Gladiolus mutters as he gets out of the tent.

“Because I could use the company. I’ll make you some coffee.” Ignis steps around them and turns on the cooking stove.

“Okay, well, goodnight,” Noctis says, nodding at them both before _dragging_ Prompto into the tent.

“Uh, g’night!” Prompto calls out, trying not to trip over the blankets and his own feet and the edge of the tent as he’s hauled into it.

Noctis zips it shut behind them before turning back to Prompto and looking him over, up and down.

“What?” Prompto hides his hands behind his back and checks his wristbands are all still in place.

“Nothing.” Noctis shakes his head. Takes a step forward. Another.

Prompto feels like backing away, but there’s nowhere to go in the tent, and why would he _want_ to run away, anyway?

Noctis stops with an inch between their faces. His cheeks are pink in the lantern light. “You’re not just… brain-addled from almost dying or anything?” His breath is warm against Prompto’s skin, and it makes him lean a little closer.

“No.” Prompto shakes his head. “I mean, maybe. But not like, any more than usual?” He’s babbling again and he bites his lip to stop himself.

“So I can kiss you again?” Noctis’ lips are _almost_ brushing Prompto’s as he speaks.

Prompto leans forward and kisses Noctis. Which is even _better_ than saying something, because Noctis lets out a little gasp and his hands curl around Prompto’s waist and then under his shirt. His hands are fire-hot on Prompto’s skin, and it’s suddenly _really_ hard to breathe.

Prompto pulls away, trying to catch his breath. “Not that I don’t want to keep kissing you,” he says quietly, looking at everything except Noctis’ eyes, “but um, if I fall down, Iggy’s gonna rush in here and-”

“I make you want to fall down?” Noctis tilts his head slightly and smiles.

“Shut up.” Prompto shoves lightly at his chest. “I almost _died_ , okay?”

He meant it to be teasing, but Noctis’ face falls. He stares at the floor.

“N-Noct, I didn’t-”

“I’m sorry, Prom.” Noctis looks up and takes Prompto’s hands in his. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that.”

Prompto’s shoulders twitch. “I didn’t…” He looks down at Noctis’ boots. Blows out a breath. “It’s okay.” He looks back up and gives Noctis a hopeful smile. “But if you want to kiss it better…”

Noctis grins and pushes him towards the air-mattress. It’s _way_ comfier than laying on rocks. “Wait, shit, shoes.”

They both glance towards the tent door as though Ignis is about to open it and scold them. But he doesn’t appear, and it only takes a minute for them both to unlace their boots and toss them away. And _then_ they’re in the bed, under the covers and all over each other, kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

Which is _definitely_ a good thing, because otherwise Prompto would be embarrassed by all the noises he keeps making when Noctis runs his hands all _over_ him. The only solution - the best solution - is for him to respond in kind, and then it’s _Noctis_ who’s making little gasping moans into Prompto’s mouth and nudging his hips closer and closer.

Prompto squeaks when their erections bump into each other. “Gladio- Iggy-” he chokes out between kisses.

“So we’ll be quiet.” Noctis bends his head and kisses Prompto’s throat. “Unless you can’t.”

Prompto huffs and reaches a hand between them, rubbing at Noctis’ through his pants.

Noctis’ eyes flicker shut as he bites his lip. “Not - fair-” he mutters, slitting his eyes open to glare.

“What?” Prompto gives him his very best innocent expression and strokes a little harder. As long as he doesn't think about what he's doing, he can't explode with embarrassment. Right?

Noctis’ breath hitches and comes out in a _very sexy_ moan.

Prompto gets about two seconds of feeling victorious before Noctis is leaning over him, pinning him to the bed and _grinding_ their hips together. And then he’s biting his _own_ lip, until Noctis’ mouth closes over his and then they’re kissing instead, which is much less painful and _way_ better.

Prompto realises after a minute (two, five, who knows?) that he’s the only one with free hands, since Noctis is using his to hold himself up. Which means _he_ gets to run his hands down Noctis’ back and sink them for a moment into Noctis’ ass. Noctis sucks on his lower lip and then _bites_ it, and Prompto forgets what he was doing.

Oh. He moves his hands again, shoving them a little awkwardly between them. Zippers. Pants. Buckles. _Belts_. Why are clothes so complicated and terrible and-

Noctis pulls away, his breath coming in ragged (and quiet) gasps.

“Is it okay?” Prompto asks, his fingers freezing with Noctis’ belt half-undone.

“I… Shit.” Noctis looks down at him. His eyes are reflecting the lantern light. “Okay.”

“Wait.” Prompto shifts and sits up a little. “Blow out the light?”

Noctis gives him such a long look that Prompto feels like squirming. “Alright.”

It _sucks_ to have Noctis get off him and switch off the light. It sucks even _more_ that it’s really dark. Like, super dark. There’s a hint of blue against the door of the tent from the haven fire, but it’s still…

“Shit,” Noctis mutters as he stumbles.

He falls into the bed, almost on top of Prompto, and for a second it’s _super_ _awkward_ as they rearrange themselves on the bed until they’re side by side.

Prompto clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Noctis leans over and kisses the side of Prompto’s neck.

“I…” Prompto squirms a little and presses closer, wrapping his arms around Noctis’ back. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits in a whisper.

“What, and I do?” Noctis scoffs quietly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Prompto’s face is probably bright enough that they can see it from outside the tent. “Oh.” He lifts his head and inches forward until he collides with Noctis’ nose. Cheek. Lips.

Noctis’ hand runs down Prompto’s side. Stops. Inches forward. Prompto tries to focus on the kissing, but it’s _super difficult_ because Noctis is toying with Prompto’s _belt_ and-

Prompto moves his hands and tries to pick up where he left off. Belt. Button. Zipper. If _he’s_ touching Noctis, maybe it won’t be so embarrassing to have Noctis touching him.

At least, that’s the plan. But Noctis _must_ be able to read minds, because he somehow beats Prompto in the undressing game. His fingers are warm and trembling as they curl around Prompto’s erection. Prompto shivers and pulls away. He can’t _breathe_ with Noctis’ tongue in his mouth. He pants for a moment as his fingers struggle with the _stupid damn button_ , and then it’s open, and it only takes a second-

Noctis’ cock feels like velvet against Prompto’s fingers, soft and _warm_ and _hard_ and the _noise_ Noctis makes when Prompto squeezes softly makes his own cock twitch in Noctis’ fingers.

And then he remembers about being _quiet_ , and he belatedly hushes Noctis with a very clumsy kiss.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything after that, but Prompto _tries_ really hard to focus on how Noctis squirms and presses against him. Probably the same way Prompto squirms and presses against Noctis, but that’s _not the point_.

It’s kind of _weird_ having someone else touching him. It’s the same as touching himself. Except it’s also _completely_ different, and if Prompto thinks too hard about the fact that it’s _Noctis_ touching him, he’s pretty sure he’ll embarrass himself by coming in like, four seconds _flat_.

“Oh wow, oh _wow_ ,” Prompto mumbles when Noctis moves his hand and slides his thumb over the wet tip of Prompto’s cock.

Prompto mirrors the movement, and Noctis squirms until their hands bump into each other as they move. They’re not even kissing anymore, not _really_ , just breathing into each other’s mouths.

Okay. Less like breathing and more like panting.

Prompto twists his hand slightly to get a better angle. Squeezes a little more. Not _hard_ or anything. Just… squeezier. The way he likes it when he’s in his room, thinking about-

Well, thinking about _this._ Alright, not exactly this. His fantasy doesn’t usually involve a tent and the _very insistent_ knowledge that Ignis and Gladiolus are right outside. Within hearing distance. But the rest of it - Noctis and kissing and hands and tongues and _everything_.

“Fuck, Prom,” Noctis groans into Prompto’s mouth.

Prompto swallows like he can steal the words and keep them forever. “W-What?”

“No. Nothing. It’s good. _Really good_.” Noctis kisses Prompto, shoving his tongue into Prompto’s mouth like it _belongs_ there.

Prompto’s grateful, because it stops him from having to say anything. And he’s _definitely_ not capable of saying anything. Not when Noctis’ hand is pumping up and down like that. Not when he can _taste_ Noctis on his tongue, feel his slick cock under his own hand.

Noctis. Cock. Hand. Prompto’s brain fizzes slightly as his orgasm rushes closer.

“Noct-” he gets out, because he’s pictured this in his head way too many times to _not_ include that detail, the _best_ part when it’s finally happening in reality-

“Prom,” Noctis moans back, and okay. That’s the best part.

Their hands move a little faster, and they’re back to panting into each other’s mouths instead of kissing. Noctis’ knuckles bang into Prompto’s. Their feet are curling together through the socks, a little ticklish, but what does that matter when-

“Noct,” Prompto moans again, his hips bucking. He finds enough energy to kiss Noctis _properly_.

Noctis’ hand _squeezes_ , and Prompto’s hips jerk again as he comes, hard and fast and he must have done something awesome, because Noctis’ cock is jerking and-

“Prom,” Noctis gasps, and Prompto’s hand is wetter and stickier than it was a second ago, and-

Oh.

For a minute Prompto doesn’t move. Can’t move. His orgasm rolls away from him like a wave receding over sand. Prompto’s fingers twitch as Noctis’ come starts to dry on them.

Gross. Like, super gross. _Bug_ -gross.

Except it’s Noctis, so it’s kind of okay. Kind of.

Prompto shifts his head and kisses Noctis again. He wants it to be sweet and gentle and perfect, but he still has no idea what he’s doing.

Noctis kisses him back just the same way. Perfect. Of course it’s perfect when  _Noctis_ does it.

“So um, like, don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” Prompto starts, and Noctis’ fingers clench almost _painfully_ around Prompto. “But uh, this is kinda gross and you’re closer to the tissues and-”

Noctis’ fingers relax and he lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, alright.”

They both let go at the same time. Prompto feels like he’s falling into the bed, but then Noctis passes him a couple of tissues and the moment’s gone.

He cleans himself up, feeling _really super_ grateful it’s dark. And then he peels off his pants and his shirt because there’s no way he can sleep in them when he feels so warm beside Noctis.

Wait.

“Stay?” Prompto says, hovering a hand over Noctis’ stomach.

“Of course.” Noctis tugs his shirt over his head and throws it who-cares-where. “They’re keeping watch, right?”

Prompto smiles and curls his legs around Noctis’. And his hands. And then his lips, pressing against Noctis’, but it’s hard to kiss when he keeps smiling so much.

“What are _you_ so happy about?” Noctis teases. His hands are running over Prompto’s back, warm and nice and just so _Noctis-_ like.

“Everything?” His face is hot.

“Me too,” Noctis admits, and then he kisses Prompto again.

“I, um.” Prompto pulls away and leans his forehead against Noctis’. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can.” Noctis’ hand stills against Prompto’s spine. “What is it?”

“I. Um.” It was easier in his head, when Noctis’ face wasn’t this close and Prompto’s breathing wasn’t so _uneven_ and-

Prompto takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to go looking for any more stars, you know.”

“Why not?” He can feel Noctis’ brow furrowing.

“Well. I um.” Prompto clears his throat and resists the urge to hide his face in Noctis’ hair. “I don’t have to make any more wishes.” The words spill out in a tumble.

“Oh.” Noctis says. “ _Oh_.”

Prompto squirms. He shouldn’t have said that. Probably. Maybe-

Noctis kisses him softly. “You wished for me?”

“Well who wouldn’t?” Prompto’s voice squeaks.

Noctis chuckles and kisses him again. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want to have to make you _melt_ again.”

It takes him a second to get it.

Prompto groans and wallops Noctis with a pillow. “That was _horrible_.”

Noctis laughs as he falls off the mattress. “Worth it!”

Prompto grumbles as Noctis climbs back under the blankets. Grumbles more when Noctis kisses at his cheek, his hair.

Stops grumbling when Noctis kisses him again, gentle and careful. Like Prompto’s worth treating _carefully_.

Yeah, definitely worth it. Iron Giant and darkness and _everything_.

**Author's Note:**

> one day i'm gonna ban myself from using italics, but _today is not that day_


End file.
